


Rough and Tumble

by artestani



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: How Do I Tag, Minor Violence, Multi, Original Character(s), Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-01 06:26:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2763029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artestani/pseuds/artestani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life is rough.  Sometimes you need to roll with the punches.  Alley Cat knows this better than anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No One Knows What's Going On

Life has a funny way of giving you exactly what you need, even if you don’t realize it.

The heat was starting to become stifling. People outside rushed to get away from the relentless sun. Voices called and resonated throughout the streets. The people milled about aimlessly. One girl had a more focused goal.

She pushed a piece of blonde hair behind her ear. Now she understood why Spritz said pants were a better idea. Wiping her hands on her dirty, worn skirt, she searched the bustling mass of people. _He had to be there_. Her eyes narrowed and she shielded them from the sun with a hand. She sighed through her nose and made her way through the crowd. 

Still searching, she reached a hand into her worn bag, wrapping her hand tightly around the paper kept in there. _This is completely ridiculous_. As she made headway into the sea of people, she could help but get angry. _How did he have the audacity to make those kinds of claims? What did he gain from crushing those who already had next to nothing_? 

A familiar voice caught her attention. Jerking her head towards it, her eyes landed on the figures of a pair of teenaged boys. Finally. 

Walking with a purpose now, she shouted at one of the figures.

“KELLY!” The figure of Jack Kelly started and looked around wildly, searching for the sound of the shout.

“Relax, would you?” the girl told him when she reached him, rolling her eyes. “I’m not here to do anything.” She glanced at his … friend out of the corner of her eye. She hadn’t seen him before. Fresh clothes, clean (as clean as you could get them anyway) hands, stiff posture. He didn’t look like he belonged on the Manhattan streets. 

“Happy Jackson. It’s jus’ you,” Jack said, relief barely noticeable in his voice. The girl gave him a withering glare.

“Yes, it’s just me.” She examined his dark haired colleague with a focused eye. “Who’s this?”

Jack wrapped an arm around his … partner? Happy raised an eyebrow at the expression on the unfamiliar face. Annoyance mixed with almost a kind of fondness. She knew that look. She’d worn it more than enough times dealing with the kids she knew.

“Dis is Davey Jacobs. He joined up ‘fore the strike.” She remembered the strike. It had only been a few weeks ago, and the effects were still being felt.

“Davey?” she asked, suddenly curious. She hadn’t heard of anyone working in Manhattan named Davey.

He nodded. “And you are?”

“Annie Jackson, but everyone calls me Happy. I’m from the Bronx.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Definitely not someone she would have pegged to be working in the streets of Manhattan. Then again, five years ago she wouldn’t have seen herself there either. She held out a hand and smiled, trying to seem unthreatening.

“Likewise.”

After their handshake, Jack piped up again. “So why’re you heah, Happy?” And as quickly as it had left, her foul mood from earlier had returned. Her face drooped and screwed up into a scowl. 

“Something’s come up in the Bronx.” Jack looked surprised. “Alley Cat’s asking you, and I guess Davey too, to come over and see.”

“What happened?” Davey asked. Happy shook her head.

“You need to see for yourselves.” She watched as the two had a wordless conversation. As they stared at each other, Happy shuffled her feet, suddenly uncomfortable. The two seemed to agree on something.

Jack looked back at her. “Lead th’ way.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As the trio neared the Manhattan-Bronx border, Happy spoke up again. “You know, I actually missed out on the strike.” The boys stared at her, surprised. She laughed and fiddled with the kerchief knotted neatly under her collar. “Yeah, I know. Biggest event in newsie history, and I’m asleep in the lodging house, sick as a dog.” 

“I did get some interesting stories about the two of you when the twins came back.” She watched their reactions. Jack tensed even more than before, and Davey gave Jack a quick look. “Don’t worry. I only got the good stuff. None of the nitty-gritty details.” She was lying of course. The twins had told her everything, although some of the memories were fuzzy around the edges due to the awful cold she had gotten. Happy did remember them telling her Jack had scabbed. After her disappointment faded, she thought he must have had a reason. The Jack she knew never would have done something so out of character unless he knew what he was doing.

The group reached the border quickly after, and the tension that had been building in Happy reached its peak. She looked around warily, walking carefully and with purpose. 

“Happy? Y’alright?” Jack inquired when he noticed the shift in her behavior. She nodded, distracted. Something was … off. A brown and green blur slammed into her from out of nowhere, almost knocking her to the ground.

“HAPPY!”

Happy stumbled and grunted. When she saw what, or rather who, the blur was, she couldn’t help but break into a huge grin.

“Enthusiastic as always, huh Spritz?”

Spritz latched on to Happy’s torso. Happy’s arms were trapped by the sixteen-year-old blonde, but she attempted to hug her anyway. Letting her go and pushing her wide brimmed bowler hat up higher on her head, Spritz started speaking quickly.

“Thought you’se got lost,” She told the older girl. “HEY BLITZ!” She called over her shoulder further into the neighborhood. Another person, who looked similar to Spritz, emerged from the shadowy alley. He leisurely made his way over to the two girls and the Manhattan boys. Spritz threw an arm around his shoulders. “We’s been waitin’ fer ya.” 

Blitz rolled his eyes. “Cat was gettin’ antsy,” he told Happy.

“I’m here now. And I brought these two with me.” She gestured to the two behind her. The twins began to badger them with rapid-fire questions. Spritz was asking most of the questions and Blitz was trying to stop her. Happy knew she needed to stop this soon if they had any chance to get to the meeting on time. 

“Did Sooty get to Brooklyn?” She intervened. Spritz let go of the death grip she had on Jack’s arm and spoke excitedly at Happy. She tuned her out and looked pleadingly at Blitz.

“She got theah. An’ she should be back wit Spot soon.” Spritz pouted at being interrupted while Happy sighed. _Thank God Sooty got there_. 

“We should go.” Happy said, sweeping some of her light blonde hair away from her face. 

“Race ya Blitz!” Spritz sprinted off further down the street, whooping and laughing with Blitz not far behind. Raising her eyes skyward, Happy thought, “ _Lord, give me strength_ ”, and laughed to herself. She gestured the way with her head and beckoned Jack and Davey to follow.


	2. No One Knows Who the Cat Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To the warehouse we go!

While the twins shouted and roughhoused a few feet ahead of them, Davey asked, “Who is this Alley Cat and why did he ask us to come here in the first place?” 

“Manhattan has its Cowboy,” Happy snuck a look at Jack. “And Brooklyn has its king. Here in the Bronx, we’ve got the Alley Cat. Most of us have the Cat to thank for our jobs, our food, sometimes even our lives.” 

“We’s wouldn’t be _livin’_ wit out th’ Cat,” Blitz continued.

“Have any of you ever seen him?” Davey continued.

“Well, we all live in the same lodgin’ ‘ouse. So yeah.” Spritz said, sarcasm laced through her voice. 

“Cat don’ leave Bronx much. I’s never seen ‘im, even when I have business ovah heah. I’ve only ever talked ta Happy. The guy should be called the Ghost,” Jack added. Happy snorted, Blitz hiccuped a small laugh, and Spritz burst into uncontrollable giggles. Davey glanced at Jack, both confused. 

Once Happy and Blitz had controlled themselves, and Spritz was semi-coherent again, Happy told them, “You’ll see.” 

A large warehouse loomed over the five teenagers. Spritz dashed towards the corner of the wall, where some of the wood had been replaced. She knocked four times as her brother and the others walked over. A small panel opened up and a pair of brown-gold eyes peeked out.

“Who zat?” the owner of the eyes called out.

“Rollout. It’s me.” Spritz answered.

“Me? I don’t know any me. Hey Gunner!” The voice shouted further into the warehouse.

“WHAT!?” Another angry voice shouted back.

“You know anybody named Me?”

“Shut the FUCK up an’ let ‘em in! You know who’s they is!”

Happy got closer to the panel. “Rollout. I don’t think you want to have angry Twin Terrors after you. And I certainly know that you’re terrified of Gunner after she first wakes up.” She leaned against the warehouse wall and spoke closer to the opening. “It would be a really good thing if you opened up now.”

The eyes widened and the opening snapped shut quickly. The five outside heard someone fumbling with locks or something equally metallic. The panel popped open and a tanned, black haired teenage boy sheepishly stepped out. Happy gave him a tight lipped smile and stepped past him, entering into the darkness of the warehouse. Spritz stuck her tongue out at him and quickly disappeared inside. Blitz inclined his head for the other two to enter before him. 

When their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they were astonished. Boxes upon empty boxes and crates upon empty crates surrounded them, making what was almost like a maze. Spritz had begun to climb one of the piles, with Blitz shouting worried words up at her. She balanced precariously at the top and called out to an auburn haired girl glaring down at Rollout from her perch on a nearby pile. The girl rubbed her eyes tiredly and yawned, slowly looking at the energetic blonde across from her. 

Happy stood a little farther on, talking to a tall brunet with his right arm wrapped in bandages and settled in a sling. Neither one of them looked happy. Happy rubbed a hand over her face while the boy put a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

Davey and Jack made their way over to the two of them. Happy put a hand on the brunet’s uninjured shoulder. “This is Twisty. He’ll take you to the Cat. I’ve got some stuff that needs to be taken care of.” She smiled to Twisty and walked off.

Twisty shook his unbandaged hand with both of theirs. “Twisty Kennedy, at your service.”

The three boys walked through the warehouse, occasionally catching a glimpse of Spritz and Blitz along with many other teenagers. Once the made it to what looked like the center, Twisty hopped on a box. 

“The rest of ‘em should be along shortly. Happy’s off ta meet wit Sooty an’ Spot.”

“Do you wanna tell us why we’s heah?” Jack inquired, looking around at the gathering newsies. The twins shook their heads at Twisty, mouthing something.

“Somethin’ happened this mornin’ that got Alley Cat pissed. Wanted us ta getcha an’ Spot ta talk ‘bout it, Twisty said. One of the girls above growled and spat to the side.

“Can’t believe he thought it was alright ta put tha’ shit on th’ front page!”

“Easy Fancy.” The cigarette smoking boy beside the girl rubbed her back. The two of them were among about a dozen, scattered on top of the various crate piles. Some were lounging lazily, others sitting crosslegged near the floor. One boy was napping soundly near Rollout. He was nearly pushed off by his friend, flailing his limbs and sputtering curses.

Happy returned with the King of Brooklyn and a dirt-covered redhead following closely behind. The redhead pulled herself up near the smoking boy and angry girl. Happy leaned against Twisty’s crate, gazing over the gathered crowd. She counted them as Spot, Jack, and Davey exchanged words. _Okay, there’s Smokey … Sooty … Fancy … Pipsqueak … Where’s — Oh there’s Zee._ She calculated the number and growled softly.

“Where’s Alley Cat?” Twisty shrugged.

“Dunno.” She heaved a long-suffering sigh. _Of all the times to be scarce, Cat, and you choose THIS one. You’re hopeless_. 

“Now that we’re _mostly_ all here,” she announced. “We should start. Gunner!” The girl in question looked up. “Do you have the paper?” Gunner reached behind her and threw down a smudged paper. Happy picked it up and offered it to Davey and the others. “This is why we called you three here.” 

Unfolding the paper, Davey read the front page headline, Spot and Jack reading over his shoulder. _Newsboy Strike: Sham? New Evidence Points to Yes_. He reread the headline, then again. Happy frowned in sympathy, understanding their confusion and disbelief.

“Who the fuck does this…” Spot read the reporter’s name. “Colin Fredrick think he is?”

“Some big shot, wit an ego like tha,” the dirty redhead told them.

“Cat wouldn’ let us sell ‘em this mornin’,” the smoker added. “Said somethin’ ‘bout ‘th’ integrity ‘f the boys’.”

“Tha’s why I called ya here,” A new voice added. The group whirled around. A short, red-brown haired figure stood farther into the darkness. Something long and thin rested on their shoulder. They walked forward. Tawny brown eyes regarded them critically. 

They spun to a stop in front of the outsiders. Dropping the object, which was actually a crowbar, off their shoulder, they held out a hand and spoke.

“Alley Cat Hanson, at yer service.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me about OCs.
> 
> artestani.tumblr.com


	3. No One Knows What To Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to get shaky.

Happy smiled from behind her hand. Davey gaped at the supposed leader of the Bronx. Alley Cat had that effect on people. 

“Hold th’ fuck up.” Cat raised an eyebrow at Spot. “Yer tellin’ me this shrimp is the Alley Cat?” Cat scoffed.

“You ain’t no giant either, Spot.”

“This guy—,” Happy stopped Jack with a raised hand.

“Guy? GUY?” Gunner asked, incredulous. She started laughing hysterically. One by one, the rest of the newsies started laughing. Many came close to falling off their seats. One dark haired girl with hair over her eye steadied her strawberry blonde friend.

The strawberry blonde caught her breath, wiped away a tear or two, and coughed. Sniffling, she said, “Alley Cat ain’t no guy.”

“There’s yer problem, boys,” Fancy told them. She leaped down from her perch next to the boy smoking the cigarette. “ Alley Cat ain’t no guy. Alley Cat Hanson,” the newsie in question smiled. “is a girl.”

Alley Cat reached up and pulled off her gray cap, wavy, russet-colored hair falling down past her shoulders.

“May I introduce Kate Hanson,” Happy said with a smirk. “Queen of the Bronx.”

Tawny eyes sparkled with amusement as Cat watched confusion and disbelief bloom on Spot’s, Jack’s, and Davey’s faces. She swung her crowbar back and forth, walking lazily in front of them.

“Whatcha expect, some big tough guy in charge 'f 'em?” Cat smiled wider and rested the crowbar back on her shoulder. “I’ve been ovah heah in th’ Bronx fer almos’ nine years, leadin’ it for almos’ five an’ none ‘f you’s ever thought I could be a _girl_.”

“You thought that, because Alley Cat here led us, she had to be a guy. Why?” Happy asked.

“I- I don’t really know…” Davey said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Didja think a girl couldn’t be in charge?” the strawberry blonde asked, swinging her legs over the edge of the crate she sat on.

“I think they’s thought a girl ain’t tough enough ta be the big cheese, ey Croak?” Spritz called over her brother’s head.

“No way!” Jack said.

“You jus’ nevah thought ‘bout it like tha’,” Cat told him. “ ’s alright. I don’ blame ya. I like watchin’ ya figure it out.” She turned to Happy and held out her hand.

Happy threw her the paper from her bag. Alley Cat caught it and her eyes darkened with rage as she gazed over the article. She flipped a strand of hair out of her face and pointed to the paper.

“I don’ ‘ppreciate my friends bein’ called shams. ‘Specially ‘f they ain’t.” Murmurs of agreement rose from the gathered newsies. “I thought you’s might wanna ‘ave a say in what we do. We all bought the papes, right?” The rest nodded. “Time to figure out how ta sell ‘em.”

“You could get rid of the article.” Davey spoke up. Alley Cat looked at him, interested.

“An’ you are?” Davey blinked. “I know Jack. An’ I know Spot. I don’t know you.” 

“Davey Jacobs.” Cat smiled lazily. 

“So, Davey Jacobs. How’s we supposed ta get rid ‘f this?” She gestured to the paper again. He looked to the paper in his own hand. Happy watched him intently. He seemed to be thinking deeply. How did he think they could get rid of the article and still sell their papers?

“Cut it out.” Cat looked back at him sharply. Davey had all the other newsies held captivated, all wondering what he was talking about.

“You could cut out all the articles from the papers themselves. Or black it out so people can’t read it.” Cat nodded, intrigued. 

“That could work,” Happy said. She mulled it over in her head. If they blacked out the article, they could still sell them and make enough for the day.

“With tha' out the way, I should probably tell ya. Tha’ ain’t th’ only reason I called you’s out heah,” Cat said. She hopped up on the crate next to Twisty and Happy, crossing her legs. 

Happy looked at her, confused. She hadn’t told her about any other reason. 

“RIngwald. ‘E’s back an’ ‘e’s pissed.” Happy gaped at Alley Cat, dumbstruck. If any of the other newsies were holding something, they dropped it. All their attention was glued to Cat. Her face was set in a grim frown, eyes blazing fiercely. 

“Y’ never tol’ me he was back,” Twisty said softly. Cat fiddled with her crowbar, refusing to look at her two closest friends. Happy looked at her, extremely concerned. If Burton Ringwald was back, that didn’t pose well for any of them. 

“I saw ‘im earlier. Tha’s why I was late.” Cat brushed some of her hair out of her face, grimacing. “Overheard ‘im spoutin’ some shit.”

“What’d he say?” Happy pushed herself off the box and started over to her leader. 

“ ‘E’s gonna try an’ take over the Bronx,” Cat looked at Jack and Davey. “Then Manhattan.” She looked over to Spot. “An’, once ‘e think’s ‘e’s tough enough, ‘e’s gonna try to take down Brooklyn.”

None of the newsies spoke. No one even moved. To think that one person could take over the three most powerful boroughs by himself was unheard of. Even if he did have the nerve to try, he wouldn’t succeed, right?

“I… I need yer help,” Cat said softly. “An’ as much as I hate ta admit it, I can’t do this on my own.” She looked the three others in the eyes. “If we don’ do somethin’ together, we’ll jus’ fall like dominoes one by one.”

“An alliance,” Happy said. “You’re proposing an alliance.”

“Ya don’ ‘ave ta decide now. Jus’… jus’ think ‘bout it, okay?” For once in the short five years Happy had known her, Alley Cat looked unsure. Almost apprehensive.

“Sure,” Jack said. Spot nodded as well, looking thoughtful. Cat gave a small smile when Jack said that, not her normal one full of cocky smugness. She got off her crate and shook hands with the three guests. 

“Guess I’ll be seein’ you’s soon. Oh, an’ don’ tell no one ‘bout me bein’ a girl, understand? It’s more fun to see their faces when they find out.” Cat turned and left with Happy while Twisty showed the other three the way out.

As they left, Spritz shouted down to Spot, “How’s Brooklyn fairin’ wit out us?”

“Still in one piece, thankfully,” Spot teased. Spritz laughed loudly while Blitz just smiled widely.

“Git outta here, ya bums.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me.
> 
> artestanti.tumblr.com


	4. No One Knows How to Control Their Temper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gunner, Sooty, and Spritz have a visitor. Their fun gets a little out of hand.

“Oh come _ON_!”

“That ain’t fair. You gotta be cheatin’.”

Spritz laughed at her friends’ comments. Gunner was furious and Sooty was outright pouting.

“Wanna play another game?” She asked, collecting all the cards and shuffling them. She leaned back in her chair as she did so, a lazy grin across her face.

“Deal me in,” Gunner growled, her scowl deepening. Sooty motioned with her hand to deal her in as well.

Spritz’ grin grew even larger. “Alright, but it ain’t my fault ‘f ya lose.”

The game continued, with the three teenagers focused solely on their cards. While they were playing, Happy was scribbling away fiercely at her notebook and Alley Cat was asleep at the top of the tallest pile of boxes and crates. Mounty and Croak were screwing around near them, shouting and throwing things at one another.

Looking up from her cards, Spritz examined her friends. Sooty kept bouncing her leg and playing with a piece of her hair. _Probably didn’t have a good hand._ Gunner rubbed under her nose and sniffed. _Definitely not a good one._ Spritz quirked the corner of her mouth up for a short second then schooled her poker face. Since she lived in Brooklyn for a while, it rarely slipped. She was the best in the Bronx. 

“SPRITZ!” The blonde in question jumped and dropped her cards. _Oh for fuck’s sake. And I was going to win. Again._ Gunner and Sooty crowed at her defeat. Happy looked up from her position curled at the base of a pile of crates, momentarily distracted from whatever she was writing. Alley Cat snuffled in her sleep and rolled over. Spritz watched as Blitz scrambled over to her. She saw the worry and apprehensiveness in his eyes. 

“What is it?” She asked, pushing herself away from the game for a moment. 

“There’s some guy outside fer ya.”

She narrowed her eyes and shot a look at her friends. She glanced back at her brother with an eyebrow raised. “Ya don’ know who it is?” Blitz shook his head. “Well, wha’s he look like?”

“Short, with dark hair. ‘E looked Italian an’ didn’t take too kindly ta me tellin’ ‘im to wait.” Pausing for a moment, Spritz scoffed and leaned back in her chair. 

“Let ‘im in,” she told him. 

“You sure?” Blitz looked wary. Spritz nodded and shooed him away. He shrugged and wandered back to the entrance. Gunner glared at Spritz while Sooty played with the cards laying on the table.

“The fuck was tha’ about?” Gunner was not amused in the slightest. “Who the hell is this angry Italian an’ why does he wanna see ya?”

Spritz shrugged, gathering the cards and shuffling the deck again. Sooty pouted some more without the cards to play with. “ ‘E’s an old friend. I don’ know why he’s here though.”

As they were talking, Blitz returned with the stranger in tow. Spritz shot up and ran to greet him.

“Hiya Race.” She clapped a hand on his shoulder. Happy glanced up from her notebook and smiled, watching them interact. Mountie and Croak stopped horsing around for a moment to greet the Manhattan newsie before going back to whatever it was they were doing. None of them had any idea. Alley Cat just kept snoring.

Racetrack Higgins returned the clap on Spritz’ shoulder. She asked him, “Th’ hell you doin’ here?”

“I dunno.” He shrugged.

“Well, since yer here, ya wanna join in?” She pointed to the table, where Gunner nodded at him and Sooty gave a small wave. 

“Sure thing. Don’ expect me ta go easy on you’s girls,” he told them. Gunner rolled her eyes, Sooty giggled behind her hand, and Spritz snorted as she pulled up an unbroken chair. 

“Wouldn’ dream ‘f it.” The four of them settled in their seats as Blitz sat nearby. Spritz shuffled the deck. “Ya wanna deal?” She offered the cards to Racetrack. He took them with a sly smile.

“Someone has ta make sure you’s three don’ cheat.” Sooty gave a loud, exaggerated gasp.

“Cheat? US?! Never!” 

“How DARE ya!” Gunner continued sarcastically. “We ain’t from Brooklyn. Well,” she glanced at the twins. “Not all of us.”

“Ya got sumthin ta say, _Phoebe_?” Spritz smirked as she gathered her cards. Gunner’s eyes narrowed and glinted with a dangerous light.

“Nuthin that ain’t been said before. _Samantha_.” Spritz’ smile became a little sharper. Blitz scooted closer to Sooty, eyes wide.

Racetrack looked to Sooty for an explanation. “These two always like this?”

She shrugged and flipped a lock of hair out of her face. “This ain’t nothing. They’s normally worse.” She looked behind her at the others. Mountie and Croak had become oddly silent. Annie had abandoned her notebook, her full attention on the quartet at the table. Alley Cat was fast asleep, snoring away.

Spritz and Gunner’s harmless jabs had turned into full blown insults. Both had their chairs pushed back, leaning into each other’s personal space and shouting directly in the other’s face. Sooty ignored them and opted to continue the game with Racetrack. She groaned when he ended up winning, slumping over the table. Blitz patted her back, trying to be comforting.

As they started the next game, the other two’s argument became unbearably loud. Sooty paused to sneak a glance. There was a chance whatever _this_ was could become violent quickly. Gunner had a mean streak and an explosive temper that was infamous throughout the city. Spritz had lived in Brooklyn for over a year before she and her brother joined the Bronx. She had the skills and experience to fight dirty. 

“BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP GOD DAMMIT!”

All noise in the warehouse stopped. Racetrack and Sooty looked up. Alley Cat glared down at them, hair mussed and eyes bloodshot. She looked like she hadn’t had a good night of sleep in over a week. Spritz and Gunner had the decency to look ashamed. They sat back down and sheepishly picked up the cards they had scattered during their argument. Alley Cat flopped back down with a short growl and a huff.

“ ‘M sorry I called ya a backstabbing piece ‘f shit,” Gunner said.

“Sorry I said y’ was useless,” Spritz muttered.

A long silence fell over the whole space. “Well then,” Racetrack spoke up, feeling rather out of place. Sooty began to deal a new hand.

“New game?” she asked, cheerfulness lacing her voice. All of them cracked a smile.

“Sure thing Soot.”

“Make sure Racetrack ain’t a cheat.”

“Hey! You get mad if I say that ta you, but you can say it ta me?”

“You sayin’ you ain’t never cheated in yer life?”

“Now, I never said _that_...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are going to be a series of one-shots that all end up connecting.  
> Mostly, we're going to meet more of the Bronx newsies as they interact with the other newsies.
> 
> Come and talk to me:  
> artestani.tumblr.com


End file.
